Chapter 21
STEFANO
Unlike the last time I appeared before Edgardo Lordi and his Commission cronies, this meeting pulsed with tension the moment I walked through the door.
Lordi’s men searched Tony and me more thoroughly and stripped us of all weapons. They made Tony wait in the empty restaurant while pushing me through the door into the back room.
The heads of all Commission families filled the room. No plates of pasta or glasses of wine sat in front of them, and not a soul spoke out of turn.
“Do you know why I’ve brought you here?” Lordi asked.
I would never fall for that trick.
He’d made it crystal clear. If I acquired control of Capaldo’s men, I must join the Commission—or become their enemy. Or maybe he’d summoned me to discuss my trip to Chicago.
Regardless, I didn’t volunteer information to anyone.
I straightened my jacket sleeves.
“I could hazard a few guesses, but we’re all busy men with better things to do. Let’s skip the guessing game and get on with business.”
Don Lordi narrowed his close-set dark eyes.
“Are you not aware of the laws dictating our world?”
What a stupid fucking question.
“Are we talking gravity or taxes?” I asked.
I didn’t have time for this man’s shit and hoped the glib answer conveyed my annoyance.
Lordi apparently didn’t find my response as amusing as I had. He rose from his chair, a failed attempt to make himself the most intimidating man in the room, and slammed his fists on the table in front of him.
“You know damn well I’m talking about the laws of the Commission governing the Italian families in New York.”
I shrugged. “Last time I checked, I wasn’t a member of the council, which technically exempts me from abiding by its laws. Now if there’s nothing else, I’ll let you get back to whatever it is you do here. I’m happy to show myself out.”
I turned around to exit the room.
“You will not leave,” he shouted.
Enforcers appeared on either side of me, their hands clamping onto my shoulders and gripping my elbows.
A young man sitting at Lordi’s left side got out of his chair.
“Is this all really necessary?”
The fuck? I hadn’t seen this guy before, even though I kept close tabs on the Commission and the families in the area.
“Christ, Mr. Vignali’s not going anywhere,” he continued. “There’s no reason to treat him like a prisoner.”
Lordi shot the guy a shut-the-fuck-up look.
“Mr. Medico, I realize you’re new to the committee, but you see, this is how it’s done.”
Ah, yes—Medico… Angelo… Victor Medico’s only son.
He had disappeared several years earlier, the rumors ranging from him serving time in an out-of-state prison to the kid having been kidnapped by a rival gang.
Victor Medico never seemed concerned about his son’s disappearance. He never confirmed or denied the rumors.
At the time, I hadn’t paid any attention. I’d been too busy building my empire to worry about anything that didn’t affect me.
I glanced around the room.
Victor had skipped the meeting, and Angelo had his seat. Whether the man had retired or died meant nothing to me, but I had to wonder if this new, younger face belonged to friend or foe.
Angelo shook his head, unbothered by Lordi’s glare.
“I understand certain protocols need to be followed. I also understand Mr. Vignali deserves some respect. Hell, he’s taken over the Capaldo and Malta families.”
“The Capaldo girl hasn’t married anyone yet,” Lordi said. “And I have Mr. Vignali’s word that he won’t marry her.”
Don Lordi’s gaze jumped over to me.
“Isn’t that right?”
I nodded. “It is. I’ve kept my word. I haven’t married the girl, and I don’t plan to. But that doesn’t change the fact that her father’s men are now under my command.”
Or they would be soon. Commission members didn’t need to know the transactional details.
Lordi shook his head. “No, that’s not possible. Benedict Capaldo would never?—”
“Benedict Capaldo is dead,” I said.
Gasps filled the room. Of course, our audience assumed I’d killed Capaldo and taken his empire by force.
I jerked my arms free, held up a hand, and shook my head at the room.
“Benedetta and I signed the contract a few hours after he passed from his cancer. I control her interests until she marries with my approval and blessing. I just haven’t had a chance to make an announcement. Benedetta’s planning a service. You’ll all be informed of the date and location.”
Lordi’s face turned red. He huffed out a breath.
“That doesn’t change the reason why we’re here today.”
I gnashed my teeth.
I had to control my temper to get out alive.
Although if I failed to keep Val alive, I would come back and provoke them into killing me. Suicide by provocation.
“Then for Christ’s sake,” I said, “tell us why we’re here. You might not have anything more important to do with your time, but the rest of us certainly do.”
Fucker jabbed a finger into the air and shrieked.
“You broke the New York–Chicago treaty!”
A screaming match would be fruitless and time-consuming, so I remained as calm and collected as possible.
“I’m not a member of this council… sir. Neither my men nor the men who now report to me operate within its purview. I’m not required to abide by your treaty.”
“Oh, but you are, son. Your family is a founding family, meaning you’re bound by every law of this council in your grandfather’s stead.”
Lordi opened the leather portfolio in front of him and produced a scrolled document that looked smaller than but otherwise similar to the Declaration of Independence, complete with signatures at the bottom.
“Do you know what this document says, Mr. Vignali?”
“US declares independence from the British Empire?”
A few people chuckled, but Lordi’s frigid, roaming gaze stopped them short.
“I’ve had enough of your smartass mouth, son. You will respect this council or suffer the consequences.”
“I will respect this council when you respect my time, not to mention the valuable time of every other man in this room. Get to your point. And don’t call me son again.”
The moment the words barreled out of my mouth, I realized my mistake. I’d made a strategically stupid move, but my patience had diminished with every passing minute. I’d already wasted too much time. The longer I stood before this man, the longer Val remained in danger.
Lordi squinted. “You broke the treaty. The signatures shown here include that of your grandfather, and every signer’s family is required to obey these rules.”
“As long as the family remains under the council’s influence,” I added. “The influence ended in this case when you murdered my father and his heir. I was never in the line of succession. You destroyed what my family had. I’ve built a new empire.”
He shook his stupid fucking head.
“A change in the order of succession doesn’t excuse you from the influence. You’re the living Vignali representative. You haven’t taken your council seat as a member yet, but you’re still expected to abide by our laws.
“And the fact that I haven’t found it necessary to drag you in here before now does not, under any circumstances, mean you won’t be held responsible for your actions.”
Interesting. Lordi said he’d never dragged me into this room before when he had. What game was he playing?
It didn’t matter now. The clock was ticking, and I needed to leave. Every minute wasted in New York meant another one for my girl to suffer through more abuse.
“If you would like,” Lordi continued, “we can argue this matter all night, but the end result will remain the same?—”
“What’s the fucking punishment?” I blurted.
He sank back into his chair as if disappointed.
“A pound of flesh. It’s your first offense, so a finger will do.”
A finger? Fuck it. I had nine more. Val had only one life.
“If it means I don’t have to listen to you prattle on about the importance of tradition for six more fucking hours, then take the goddamn finger and let me leave.”
The room erupted into murmurs.
What did they expect? I would never get on my knees before these men, the same men I would kill sooner or later. Nor would I ever promise to behave like a disobedient child.
The shock on Don Lordi’s face as his mouth opened and closed several times made me believe he hadn’t expected me to agree quite so readily.
Angelo Medico blinked like he couldn’t believe it either.
“You’ll willingly lose a finger here today in penance for breaking the New York–Chicago treaty?” Lordi asked. “Is that what you’re telling me? You do realize that includes letting you bleed for thirty minutes before we cauterize the wound?”
“I’m aware,” I lied.
I’d rather cauterize it myself while sitting in the back of my car on the way to the airport. And thirty minutes of bleeding was still faster than trying to argue my way out of his charges.
Lordi raised his bushy eyebrows.
“You’ll get nothing for the pain, before or after. Only a shot of whiskey is permitted.”
Shaking my head, I shrugged out of my jacket and removed the cuff link from my right shirtsleeve.
“Keep your damn whiskey, Lordi, and get on with it.”
“Well, I guess if there are no objections from the council.”
He gazed down along the table and around the room.
How very fucking diplomatic of him.
The other Commission members looked flabbergasted.
When I was young, my mother had taught me this trick. Whenever someone geared up for a fight, the easiest way to win would be for me to agree with them, she’d told me. They would never see it coming, and it would throw them off every time.
In this case, it meant I lost a finger.
Better a finger than my wife.
While keeping my eyes on Lordi, I rolled up my sleeve.
“Well, are we going to do this today or what?”
Some of the other men chuckled.
Lordi accepted a large hunting knife from one of his men.
“Fine. Let’s get it done.”
At first, I thought he planned to do it himself, but I should’ve known better. He handed the knife to an enforcer.
As the man came for me, another one grabbed my wrist.
I twisted my arm out of his grip and bared my teeth.
“Do not touch me.”